


Snarky Quote About Revenge

by DiazTuna



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BtVS AU - Freeform, F/F, SQ - Freeform, Swan Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 21:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiazTuna/pseuds/DiazTuna
Summary: Crack. It ends just like that, two realms and a thousand years worth of vengeance. Blown glass crushed without ceremony. Regina supposes she should have known, should have heeded the warning about the new Slayer in town. The Slayer with the must-be-fake- blonde curls and horrid red leather jacket.. The brazen Slayer who had the gaul to taunt with a wink her before taking her amulet. But what was Regina to do?OR a Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU in which Emma Swan is the Slayer and Regina is the Vengeance Demon set on destroying her.





	Snarky Quote About Revenge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coalitiongirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/gifts).



> This one just got out of hand but that's just the nature of SQ. BuffyxAnya will rise in 2019! Thanks to Sweets for powering through and to Bailey for checking it for Buffy-isms!
> 
> Nerds.

_Crack._ It ends just like that, two realms and a thousand years worth of vengeance. Blown glass crushed without ceremony. Regina supposes she should have known, should have heeded the warning about the new Slayer in town. The Slayer with the must-be-fake- blonde curls and horrid red leather jacket.. The brazen Slayer who had the gaul to taunt with a wink her before taking her amulet. But what was Regina to do? She’d been bored out of her mind with her amulet sitting unused at antique shop for over sixty years. An opportunity had presented itself and she was unable to resist, baited with the possibility of mayhem.

 

“Oh Evil Ancient One,” The girl had practically prostrated herself at her feet. Regina had to admit she quite liked that detail. “You answered my call!”

 

“I don’t take kindly to that moniker, dear.” She’d lifted her skirts away from the girl’s lips. “Trite and not to mention inaccurate.” If she were being honest she much preferred La Sayona or Siguanaba but she could also do without with the inaccuracies of _those_ stories.

 

“Gosh I’m so sorry! It’s just what the books said and I assumed..”

 

“Don’t believe everything you read.You never know which vengeance demon you might upset.”

 

The girl had squirmed away and hadn’t dared look at her. Regina remembers smiling at that. Mousey girls had always been her favorite, the greatest potential for havoc. Just lying in their minds, every word they never said. Every smile they hadn’t meant. There had once been a country mouse that had her burn an entire village after a man asked for her hand at the square. Regina had seen that potential in the girl. She’d longed for a request for hearts to be crushed, it’d been a great while since she last turned a heart to dust.

 

“Now out with it, girl. It’s rude to have summoned me only to keep me waiting.”  

 

“Of course, of course!” She’d stood up then and Regina wrapped a finger around the girl’s necklace.  “There is this boy.”

 

“Let me guess, he broke your heart?” Regina’s smile had widened thinking of the prospects. Perhaps another revolution, the best one always begin in the most unlikely places.

 

“Yes! How did you know?”

 

“It’s my job to know these things.” She’d approached her and taken a finger to her chin. “Now, tell me what to do about this boy.”

 

It had turned out, in the middle of the affair, that the girl lacked creativity. Regina had thought this year might have brought more thirst for revenge, or so she’d heard from the underworld. Demons, ghouls and monsters having a field day with all that was wrong with mortals. Not her, a being made for such times. Regina had set her hopes on this girl but all she had wanted was boils on the boy’s private parts. It had taken some coaxing from her part, to get the girl to set her eyes on the real culprit of all her troubles. She went through great pains to stoke that anger and work it into a true wish for revenge.

 

It’d begun with the Earth swallowing the entire football team, then the lacrosse team. Then it was wishing the cheering squad into another realm, that had been when true chaos had begun. Without its girls society began collapsing, even if they had been mourned less. The girl had begged her to make it stop but Regina had reminded her that all wishes were final.

 

Final until a certain Slayer with an infuriating grin had appeared out of thin air. Or rather in a ridiculous yellow car. Regina looks at her now as she feels her power draining from the depths of her. Standing tall and the shards of her amulet under the Slayer’s boot. Loose hair on her shoulder as if it were a day by the Sea, looking as if it had all been a warm up. She has no idea what she’s done to her. Regina hates her the more for it, for just breathing in relief as something inside her shrivels.

 

“Kid, ever heard of slashing someone’s tires?” The Slayer tells the girl who is now clinging to a tree. “Might be healthier than summoning an ancient evil to get back at a loser.”

 

That’s when Regina snaps because she will not be spoken about. Especially not in this manner, as if she were just a thing. As if she’s not here, feeling worse than death.

 

“You _idiot,_ do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Gone is the deep voice she would have used to frighten mortals. “What you’ve reduced me to?”

 

The Slayer then looks at her and Regina detects something that might be sympathy.

 

“Kinda.” She says after biting her lip. “Can’t have a revenge demon on the streets. No matter _what_ you look like.”

 

Regina tries to summon her magic, to wrap her in the violet of it. But nothing comes, her arms and legs are weak. Too weak to even lunge at the Slayer and try to squeeze that bravado out of her. Much too human. She hasn’t felt her heartbeat in thousand years. It feels suffocating to suddenly feel the traces of fear where there used to be only vengeance.

 

“I’ll destroy you even if it’s the last thing I do!” Regina vows as the feebleness of humanity returns to her.

 

“Yeah, get in line, lady.” The Slayer tells her with a shrug before leaving. “See you around.”

 

* * *

 The thing about humanity is that it’s nothing like she remembers. Regina had seen the rise and falls empires. Had seen them men go from Alteza, Holiness to Premier and many other titles. There had been desires of revenge in the hearts of women, it had been easy to feed from their anger and transform it to fury. She had enjoyed herself, every thread of her dancing in the fire of the aftermath. But  humanity isn’t always the bigger moments, the tipping points. It’s composed of silence and moments that will be forgotten. Regina remembers that now. Here in a room painted a hideous shade of blue. Paid for with the wealth of men long dead.

 

She notices the crumbs on the carpet between her toes from the various things she has tried to eat. Crackers, toast, tortilla chips, sandwiches and muffins. All too much or too little for a body that had lived for a thousand years sustained by nothing but wrath and magic. The body that now feels exhaustion down to its bones, that aches for water and quiet. One that gets sticky in all the wrong places and whose heart beats keep her from sleeping. It’s a fragile shell, one that had been deemed as insufficient to contain her and the multitudes within. It only houses her now, Regina supposes. It hadn’t occurred to her through all her years that hers is a lonely existence.

 

That, _that_ she blames on the Slayer. Before she had trampled on her life, broken it into pieces, Regina had merely been passing the time. Waiting for the moment a girl or two unleashed her into the world. If it weren’t for that meddlesome woman she wouldn’t be sitting at the edge of a bed contemplating her humanity y la inmortalidad del sapo. A promise had been made to destroy her and she intends to drag her down to hell if she has to. First Regina needs answers, everything there is to know about this Slayer. Then forge those answers into a fatal plan.

 

She knows just the place.

 

* * *

 

The Dungeon remains the same, stone walls and wooden floors. Built as to remind the various creatures of the night of where they came from. It never served that purpose for Regina. Her true origins were worlds apart from the creaking wood and fire. Hers had been cool tile and crashing waves but she rather not dwell on them. The Dungeon had always welcomed her and given her a place in this realm. It became familiar  but now it only it encroaches uncomfortably around her. Makes her feel weak and vulnerable, open for attack. This is what has become of her. An animal with no claws.

 

“Unfortunately, I don’t know much about the Slayer.” Mal tells her sipping her drink.  A Blood Martini that Regina has breathing through her mouth.

 

“There must be something of use,” Regina barely touches her red wine. “A weakness. Another human that could be used as leverage.”

 

“Not this one, I hear.” Mal’s eyes turn gold in a way she’d never noticed before. “More of a drifter. That’s one way to beat the average life expectancy for a vampire slayer.”

 

“That just means I just need to work harder to find the chink in her armor.” She thinks of the Slayer’s wide grin and her rough but confident steps. Non-pulsed when faced with Regina and the destruction she had brought to the town. How she _loathes_ her.

 

“Why do you care so much anyway?” The Dragon leans forward and smells the air around Regina as she does.

 

“Since when do we question wanting to destroy a Slayer?”

 

“Oh, Regina. Do you think you have anyone in here fooled?” She throws her head back. “We’ve all heard about your situation. Hovelled at a place with a pool. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to pass that wine for blood. You reek of humanity.”

 

“Then why let me in at all?” She asks through her teeth to hide her shame.

 

“Old time’s sake. History, call it whatever you like,” Her teeth turn sharp as the words leave her mouth. “But there is no we to speak of anymore. No self-respecting demon would ally themselves with a human. You’re prey, Regina.”

 

“I will take down the Slayer like none of these spineless and witless creatures ever could.” Her fingers search for a silver coin to pay and storm out from this poorly lit excuse of a basement.

 

“You won’t make it in time. Not with who and what is coming to town.”

 

Regina knows she should ask, care about the next apocalypse. But she has too much pride to turn around and take crumbs from Mal.

 

“Farewell, despiadada.” El Cadejo watching the door barks at her as she climbs up the stairs for the last time.

 

* * *

 

The world is tinted in the dark blue of her lenses, it is the only way a day outside is tolerable. The Sun is much hotter than she remembers. Perhaps it had not mattered when she was still a demon but now that her human eyes and skin suffer under its rays Regina is annoyed that most humans seem to go about their day. She wonders if it could just be these humans in the Hellmouth, too used to the explainable and horrible to notice the burning heat. Whatever the reason, at least she has found food and drink she tolerates.

 

“Le traigo mas te?” The waitress asks her. Dayan, that is what her name-tag reads.

 

“Y mas pan, por favor.” Regina replies with a tone she has yet to master.

 

Dayan smiles and walks away, her dark hair whipping behind her.This girl isn’t the type of girl who would have called on her, not intentionally. But Regina would have done wonders for her, promised her the world and delivered. However, Dayan is the kind to regret it after the fact. To damn the day she ever came into her life. Or she would be, if Regina were still a demon. As it stands she is just a woman eating outdoors. A woman getting odd looks.

 

Regina has a neat stack of papers next to her cup and a few open books, that shouldn’t be reason enough to garner the attention of men. But men are just the same as they have always been. Unwanted. The one sitting at the table next to her, who she would have surely decimated, keeps trying to decipher her writing. All the while trying to flash her a smile in a way that makes him look constipated. She furrows her brow to no avail.

 

“It’s nice to see someone who still puts pen to paper.” He tells her leaning her way. “These days people spend too much time glued to their screens.”

 

Regina doesn’t have time to figure out his meaning, she sighs and focuses on the names on the old volumes in front of her. The man somehow takes that as an invitation to try and join her.

 

“My name is Robin and I hope you don’t mind…”

 

“I do, actually.” She only looks up because Dayan has returned to refill her cup. “Tell me, what about me suggested that I am not busy? Was it the pen to paper as you so astutely observed?”

 

The man looks like he has swallowed his tongue before retreating and leaving the place all together. Dayan gapes at her and  for a moment Regina thinks the girl might say a word or two. Instead she blushes furiously and moves to a different table. Regina is almost disappointed. Another thing she has not felt in a great long while. It isn’t pleasant, to have it sit inside herself like this. Cold and empty. To have the need to fill that void. It’s why Regina has devoted her afternoon on the workings of a plan. A plan to get back at the Slayer for bringing this back into her life.

 

Mal had been right to say that no self-respecting demon would ally themselves with a human but fortunately there are a variety of demons and creatures with no self-respect. Those will be the most eager to prove themselves against a Slayer. Pages are now filled with their names, names that hardly strike fear, but would suit her purposes. Along the margins she has written down summoning incantations and methods of payment, all organized in by expense and level of repulsion. Regina will be damned if she ever gets to the bottom of her list, she decides as she sips her tea.

 

Luckily the Slayer’s ordeal has just begun.

 

* * *

 

Hyena boys are ideal for the task, fighting for a place in their matriarch’s pack. They had been easy to summon, all it took was the carcass of a hooved animal. Available almost anywhere in this town, one of the few good things in this period. It had been even easier to convince them, Regina’s centuries of practice have paid off. An appeal to their egos and the boys had wagged their tails in agreement.

 

“You’ll see bosslady, the Slayer will come!” The smallest of the Hyena boys tells her. “We bit a human man earlier today. Dragged him to the woods. He’ll turn soon!”

 

“We did good, right?” The tallest asks, ears perking up in anticipation.

 

“Yes, you did very well.”  Regina knows when praise is necessary. And she won’t admit to feeling something like pity for the hyena boys.

 

“Oooh I smell her coming!” The third one says lifting up his snout into the air. “Smells like...sugar and cinnamon.”

 

“Now remember, go for the throat.” She instructs them taking her position by the well. Prime seats for what could very likely be a disaster. “Don’t hesitate.”

 

_Slaaayer         Slaaaayer       Slaaaaayer Slaaaayer               Slaaaaayer_

_Slaaaayer           Slaaaayer    Slaaaaayer Slaaaaaayer              Slaaaaayer_

 

The boys begin whispering to bait the Slayer out. Regina has heard of Hyena whisper magic, capable of drawing out even the strongest of humans out in the savannahs to be hunted. Done with just a name. The boys’ whispers must not be quite as powerful as their sisters’ and mothers’ but it does the trick. Regina can see the moonlight reflected on the Slayer’s hair, skin made paler by the night. She has all the bearings of those stories humans are so fond of. But something about the woman is striking, the clenched fists and the set determination on her face.

 

“Oh would you guys just _shut up!_ It’s like a bad ASMR video on auto-play!” She yells out into the night.

 

“You won’t be hearing us for much longer!”

 

The smallest boy laughs before pouncing on her, Regina has to give him credit for trying to land that first bite. His brothers follow and for a moment, for a single moment Regina dares to believe it will be this simple. But the hyena boys whine as the Slayer punches them into a nearby tree. One by one.

 

“You can’t give up!” Regina encourages them from afar. “She’s only human!”

 

“We’re trying bosslady! But she’s tougher than we’re used to!”

 

“Seriously?! You’re coaching a pack of hyenas into trying to kill me?!” The Slayer turns to look at Regina. There is amusement on her lips, it grows into a smirk. She would set on fire her if she could.

 

“You hear that, Kev? The Slayer thinks we’re a pack!” He is practically wetting himself at the thought.

 

“This cannot be happening.” She presses her fingers against her eyes because she just had to pick demons with a need for approval. Anyone’s approval.

 

The boys begin to whimper and Regina cannot believe what she is witnessing. The Slayer picking them up by the scruff of their necks and tossing them as far as she can. The hyena boys scramble and run off into the night. She should have gone for the weakest girls in the pack, the girls would have at least put up a fight. Not given up until their necks snapped.

 

“Go home to your mothers! And don’t come back until….just don’t come back!” She shouts after them. “I’ve seen puppies with more bite.”

 

The Slayer walks towards her with barely a scratch on her cheek. The way the green of her eyes shines makes her blood boil. Of course a fight would bring that out in her, make her skin flush. Regina feels the whole of her simmer with fury.

 

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re after me or do I have to guess?”

 

“Vengeance!” Regina replies outraged because it seems like the Slayer has forgotten her already. The humiliation she is making her live through. “Why else?”

 

“That should’ve been an easy guess.” The Slayer is almost sheepish and that’s really what makes it worse. That she doesn’t even register Regina as a threat.  

 

“Listen to me, Slayer…”

 

“What is _it_ with no one learning my name? Hearing Slayer every three sentences is kind of dehumanizing..”

 

“Mythical pain in the ass is too literal to use in a sentence.” Regina crosses her arms because she will not step back but she will not allow the Slayer to get any closer.

 

“Emma” So close that she could kill her with her bare hands. The hands that have trouble wrapping themselves around coffee mugs sometimes. “Swan.”

 

“Why are you giving me your name? Why would I care? I just want you…”

 

“Dead, yeah.” Emma Swan smiles like she changed her midway through it. “Next time you send  the boys to try and use whisper magic on me they’ll have an easier time.”

 

“You’re the worst thing that’s happened to me.”

 

“All part of the gig. The thing monsters have nightmares about.” She sighs and shifts her gaze to the bushes behind Regina. “Haven’t seen a freshly turned hyena-man anywhere, have you?”

 

“Go to hell.” Regina hisses before stalking away from The Slayer. Emma Swan.

 

* * *

 

Regina goes through several pages  of willing and available creatures. None of them, to her endless frustration, has been capable of landing more than one blow on Emma Swan. Very little even fazes the Slayer. The yellow and black frogmen with their poison had all but missed her by the swamps. Emma Swan had fallen into the water and splashed it in Regina’s direction. The frogmen had dispersed after she’d released dragonflies into the air. And Regina had fumed and left before the Slayer could get a word in. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

 

Then there had been Mantis. With her record of devouring teenage boys, never Regina’s first choice for anything. But beggars can’t be choosers, she’d promised Mantis she could keep the Slayer’s head for dinner. Emma Swan had struck a _deal_ with Mantis as she lied in between her front legs. Promise to leave town and she’d spare Mantis’s life.

 

“She a former...of yours?” The Slayer had asked wiping off the remnants of saliva off her jacket.

 

“Mantis? Don’t be ridiculous.” Regina had glared daggers at her. “I don’t do insects.”

 

“But that whole speech about getting hers and the eye contact while she tried to eat me?”

 

“That was directed at you, moron!” She’d known her chest was red, she’d felt rising unsteadily. “That is not what I meant.”

 

“Sure.” Emma Swan had looked at her in a way she hadn’t wanted to decipher. Something that spoke to the disease of humanity. “Same time next week?”

 

* * *

 

Midnight on a Friday night. In fact, several midnights on several Friday nights. Where the Slayer gazes at her far too often. It has become nearly impossible to ignore how the hints of brown in her eyes darken when she does. If only, if only there were a competent associate out there.

 

“So, we’re just going to keep meeting like this, huh?” Regina can see the outline of Emma Swan’s muscles as she braces herself to catch the were-jaguar coming her way.

 

“It does seem that way.” Her mouth goes dry watching how the Slayer wrestles the were-jaguar into submission. “You are not making this easy.”

 

“Dinner and a movie and I might.”  She groans when she gets a paw to the face.

 

“And what would the purpose of that be, Slayer?” The meaning is lost on her and that is something Regina has come to despise about her new life. Constantly trying to decode what others say.

 

The were-jaguar is knocked unconscious with an elbow to its face and there it is. Another of one of those _gazes_ that cut through her skin.

 

“Just something people do.” Emma Swan blows an errant strand of her hair away from her mouth.

 

“I don’t know if it has escaped your notice during all these attempts on your life but,” It’s good to feel sharpness going up her throat. Good to see Emma Swan thrown off balance. “But I haven’t been “people” for too long. And it has been entirely against my will.”

 

“Look, I’m not going to apologize for that…--” The Slayer digs her heels into the ground and straightens her shoulders.

 

“Of course not!” Regina steps forward on instinct, whether it be human and demonic. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

 

“Yeah, why not?” The way her chest falls and rises makes something inside her simmer.

 

“It forces me to do this the hard way,” Now it’s Emma Swan that gets closer. If she could just end her right here and now. “And I love the hard way.”

 

For a moment it seems like the gap between might be closed, Regina is breathing her same air.

 

“Can’t wait.”

* * *

 

Something grander is necessary for Emma Swan, something that calls for a ceremony on a language she has no taste for. A minotaur has to be the answer. Kephalos, from the last breed of man-bulls. Born too late to be considered a myth and with a grudge to make him a worthy contender. He is ecstatic to be allowed to run free in the streets of men like he had never before. Car alarms are going off all around them as Kephalos rams everything he can find. Fire breaks out and the townspeople scream as they run away. This should be delighting her, the noise. The terror and the heat that always permeates it. But her heart is beating anxiously, telling her feet to run away too. But she is not going anywhere, not until Emma Swan shows her face.

 

“I crave man-flesh!” Kephalos shouts into the air and stomps his hooves on the ground. “My horns will spear you!”

 

“That sounds like Grindr out of context.” The Slayer says swinging a war-hammer behind her back.

 

“SLAYER!” He says and charges towards her.

 

Emma Swan isn’t fast enough for his charge, not while carrying a hammer. Kephalos headbutts  her chest and throws her against a car. She ducks her head and Regina thinks that he might have done it. Broken the Slayer’s ribcage and pierced her heart. Regina can’t help but crouch down to inspect her. She has to make sure, has to see it with her own eyes.

 

“Ow, son of a bitch.” Emma Swan whines and rubs at her chest.

 

Regina doesn’t want to call what she feels relief. It can’t be. She is simply satisfied that the Slayer will not meet her end this easily. She kisses her teeth and stands up.

 

“Made you look, didn't I?” She gazes up at Regina like she’d known she would come for her.

 

“You’re delusional from that concussion.”

 

“Where you dig this guy up?” The Slayer uses the war-hammer to prop herself up. “Didn’t think minotaurs actually existed.”

 

“You’re the _Slayer_ and you didn’t think minotaurs were real?!” How does a woman this dense manage to survive in a town like this is beyond her. Slayer or not.

 

“Can’t believe everything you hear.” Emma Swan dusts herself off and twists the hammer’s handle in her grasp. “Is this part of the Big Bad I hear is coming? Last night’s critter said something like that until I knocked them out.”

 

“Why take the mystery out of it?” Regina tells her stepping aside to let Kephalos have another go. Truthfully, there is very little she knows about what is coming.

 

“We could talk this out and avoid all the head trauma, my guy!” She may not be swift with the hammer but the hit is certainly powerful. Powerful enough to slow down a minotaur’s march.

 

“Look around Slayer, does this look like I want to talk anything out?” Kephalos shakes his head and tries again.

 

Another swing of her hammer and Kephalos is practically embedded into the side of a building. During the second it takes him to recover he looks like he has been painted to the side of a vase, a black shadow against the orange of the brick.

 

“So how long have you two known each other?” Emma Swan asks as she steps back, no doubt admiring her work.. She’s ridiculous, there is no other word for what she is. Standing there with the hammer on her shoulders and the wind in her hair. Who does she think she is?

 

“Are you actually trying to have a conversation with him?” Regina pretends to pick lint off her jacket.

 

“Hey, you won’t tell me anything about yourself. Gotta take it from where I find it.”  

 

Regina scoffs. “You’re just as bull-headed as he is.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like a fair comparison…--”

 

“Yes, it’s unfair to him..--”

 

Kephalos bellows and pounds on his chest and horns. His eyes are turning red, Regina can see it from where she’s standing. She feels that anxious heart beat again and a chill running down her back.

 

“Did you bring me to make a fool out of me, Regina?” He asks, the ring in his nose lighting up. “To mock me? Have the Slayer beat me down for your own amusement?”

 

“Kephalos, of course not.” She tries to keep her voice steady. “Your rage isn’t letting you see things clearly. Remember our deal.”

 

If she were still a demon she would turn him into a trophy to mount on a wall. But she is a woman now, human enough to be paralyzed by fear. Cold sweat breaks out from her forehead that her actions have consequences. Ones she hadn’t intended. But right as he prepares to run his horns through her Emma Swan climbs on top of his back.

 

“Calm down!” She shouts holding on to his shoulder with one hand and lifting the hammer with the other. “You don’t wanna do something you’ll regret!”

 

“You don’t get to decide what I’ll regret, woman!” His voice turns more like an animal’s as he struggles to get to Regina.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” The Slayer brings the hammer down on his head.

 

Regina hears his horns breaking, sees his eyes turning white. One blow, is all it took. He collapses at her feet and Emma Swan slides off his back. She is about to pronounce Kephalos dead, to ask the Slayer who gave her the right. The minotaur then breathes as if he were just sleeping. Alive.

 

“Take care of yourself, Regina.” Her voice is gentle over her name. She doesn’t know what to do with that, to process what she’s done for her. To her.

 

It’s only as she watches her leave that Regina realizes that she’s had a hand to hear chest this whole time.

* * *

 

If word got out that Regina had listened to the Slayer’s words her whole enterprise would collapse. _Take care of yourself, Regina._ It feels like a cold blade down her back every time she thinks of it. Remembers that she could have died, so easily. Life, her life, is so fragile now. It could end much too quickly, by a car, an unvaccinated child, water on stairs. Anything. No one could have predicted that Regina would find herself in this situation, going about her days with caution. Chopping cucumbers as delicately as she can for their benefits. Adding ginger to her teas for her stomach, aceite de coco for her hair. Hojas de mango to keep her healthy. Stocking supplies for all sorts of accidents. Regina even takes over the antique shop where her amulute had been held captive. She _had_ crushed the owner’s windpipe when she still had her powers and has since been keeping it up. This arrangement goes undisturbed for weeks.

 

And yet.

 

Emma Swan. Emma Swan, the Slayer’s name floats around her head in empty moments of boredom. And as the days pass and the dust settles on her new life her name is all she hears. Her laugh, the way Regina’s name had rolled off her tongue. Los aires de grandeza que se tira. The hideous green of her eyes. Something must be done about her. Regina finds herself pulling the last page of her list, there is only one name left. This name will rob her of all her dignity but it has already been trampled on anyway. Come dusk and all her self-respect will be gone.

 

“It won’t be long until the Slayer makes her rounds.” He says adjusting his ridiculous puffed up collar. “She’s a bird that one.”  

 

“You’re not her type, Jones.” Regina rolls her eyes.

 

She leans against a statue, looking South. Jones watches the North or rather just stares into the night with a vacant look to his eye. Standing at a cemetery past midnight feels degrading enough, no need to advertise it to the world. Regina has never stalked or roamed graveyards, never gone hunting. Humans came to her. The smell of cologne and rum coming from Jones is enough to make her want to wretch. It’s doubtful that allure is part of his tactics.

 

“Sure I am, Your Majesty.” He leers at her and Regina ponders on all the times she should have killed him in the old days. “Forbidden and impossible, that’s the appeal.”

 

“Ugh,” Emma Swan’s disgust can be heard from half a block away. “You again?”

 

Regina clenches her fists as she feels something akin to betrayal. It doesn’t sting for too long when she realizes that she’s hidden from the Slayer’s sight. The smile has to stay off her lips.

 

Jones’s changes to his true face and snarls. “Can’t help it if you keep coming back for more, love.”

 

“Let’s just get this over with.”

 

“How many times have you heard that one, Jones?” Regina says stepping out from her hiding spot. Unable to resist for much longer.

 

“Regina!” Emma Swan says caught off guard. Jones takes the opportunity to land a punch.

 

“You two know each other?” It isn’t clear who should answer his question.

 

“Did you not hear a word I said when I explained the situation to you?” She scowls at him as she  watches him being kicked into a headstone.

 

“Working with a vampire, really?!” The Slayer turns her eyes on her. It feels like the moment she’d been craving all these weeks. “That is low.”

 

“They make good lackeys once in a while, what can I say?” Regina cleans a tombstone before sitting on it to watch the fight.

 

“I don’t see you for weeks and this what you come back with?” She pauses in the middle of the fight with mock hurt in her expression. “A vampire who dresses like a pirate?”

 

“I thought you’d appreciate the...dramatics.” Her fingers playfully tap against the marble

 

“I don’t.”

 

“As if you don’t walk this route to run into me, Slayer.” Jones says failing to grab her neck.

 

“What I do is called patrolling,” His nose breaks as she uses the palm of her hand to push him back. “What you do is called stalking.”

 

“The Slayer is right on that point, I’ll give her that.”

 

“Stay out of this, Your Majesty!” Jones growls at her.

 

“Wait, wait. Your Majesty?” Emma Swan takes him by the wrist and uses her whole body to throw him against a sculpture. “That sounds like an interesting story.”

 

“It is.” She feels herself smirking as she takes in the sliver of skin showing from where the Slayer’s shirt has risen. Regina won’t bother chastising herself for it. Not when Emma Swan’s eyes are have the spark o f the fight in them. Her eyes drift to the rest of her body and find a stake stuck at the waist of her jeans.

 

“It just occurred to me that for a Slayer,” Regina begins thinking of the Hyena-boys and Kephalos. Of her amulet not her head, crushed under her boot. “You don’t seem to do much slaying..”

 

Emma Swan’s expression changes as she parts her lips to answer. With perfect timing, Jones comes back in a fury, throwing his full weight on her. With three quick hits she pushes him back and expertly slips the stake into her grasp. In a blink of an eye the Slayer stabs it into his chest and Jones turns to dust. No last words.

 

“Title’s just vampire slayer, right?”  Her voice turns grave as she casts the stake aside.

 

Regina feels like she should say something but she comes up with nothing. Nothing that could possibly match the look in her eyes. A human should apologize but instead she steps over Jones’s ashes and walks away.

 

* * *

 

After Jones became dust there were no more names on her list. No more summoning rituals, no more prices to pay for self-loathing creatures. To put it simply, her plan to destroy the Slayer had utterly failed. An outcome, if Regina were being honest with herself, was inevitable. It’s something else that she mourns. She had taken the mantle of vengeance once, that person would rage at her now. Grieving the loss of something she will not name. Regina is not as hard as she used to be, she has been stripped down to her skin. Some of her people might have called it Susto, some still do. All because there can be no more late nights trying to rid the world of Emma Swan.

 

What she has now are seemingly endless hours at the antique shop. Her one consolation is profiting from blue eyed men and women and the cursed artifacts they take home with them. Regina imagines that their complexions grow paler once the spirits and demons have settled into their mansions. The last of her customers had left with a mask that had surely been stolen some two hundred years ago and Regina flips the sign on the door with some relief.  Like clockwork there is a knock on the door just as she turns her back.

 

“We’re closed…” Regina begins and finds Emma Swan standing behind the door. “What do you want, Slayer?”

 

Her heart jumps to her throat, almost like the words _I hadn’t been expecting you,_ want to come out. Hadn’t thought she would see her after that night at the cemetery and the way her voice had dropped.  Perhaps Regina is glad to see her. But that can’t be, she is not capable of the emotion. Human or not, Regina wouldn’t cling to a word like that.

 

“Would you just let me in, please?” She tilts her head, as if Regina might feel like challenging her.

 

“No. Like I said, we’re closed.”

 

“Regina, _come on_.” It only makes Regina place her hands on her waist and stick her chin out in determination. “Fine. Can you at least tell me what the hell this thing is?”

 

Emma Swan produces a yellowed scroll and flattens it against the glass of the door. A forbidden language with forbidden names, that should never be out after dusk. El anochecer que viene.

 

“Put that thing away!” She hisses as she unlocks the door and drags her in. “Shouldn’t there be an obnoxious bookworm of a Watcher to show you better?”

 

“Yeah.” The Slayer sticks her hands in her pockets to signal to the finality of her answer. It’s like that night at the cemetery, Regina has asked for more than she is willing to answer.  “Figured if anyone in town knew it’d have to be you. Because you know...you...have been around…”

 

“Are you calling me old?” The smile she feels blooming is stamped out by sheer force of will.

 

“No?’

 

“Good.” Regina inspects her. There are no signs she has been in any battles lately. But then again, Slayer bodies are not subject to the same rules. But she sports no fresh injuries, not even signs of lack of sleep. No, not even now would she use that word. She isn’t _glad_ to see she is doing well. Merely interested in Emma Swan as the Slayer, nothing else. “Where did you come across that scroll?”

 

“High school kids found out on a field trip at a dig,” Emma Swan lets herself wander around the store. Touching what shouldn’t be touched. “Two of them died in mysterious circumstances. Not exsanguinated which is the standard ‘unusual cause of death’ around these parts. So that in itself is weird.”

 

“And how did you come to have it?”

 

“Stole it from the evidence locker at the station.” She gives Regina a look. One that is supposed to mean it was unimportant. “This town has the worst police department. Figured it was better off with me.”

 

“That’s a marginal improvement at best.” Regina says slapping her hand away from a delicate glass orb.

 

“So what is it?” The way her gaze locks with hers makes her want to scream. Kick her out of her shop and have her blundering around in the night. But por la gran puta, Regina is not capable of it.

 

“A spell to open one of the gates of the Hellmouth.” She tells her dryly. “One of four. Whoever came up with these things lacked imagination.”

 

“Shit.” Emma Swan sucks in a breath. “This is the Big Bad that’s coming to town. The Promised One or whatever.”

 

“I’d imagine so.” There is no point in wishing she were included in these conversations anymore.

 

“So, what? I’ll just burn this thing and problem solved.”

 

“Miss Swan, do you really think it would be that easy?”

 

The Slayer grins  as if Regina had just paid her a compliment. As if she were not holding one of the keys to the Apocalypse.

 

“What?”

 

“You called me Miss Swan. Like we’re stuck in some stuffy book.”

 

“It slipped out.” If anything Regina is now an expert at hiding her mortification. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be on your way? You got what you wanted.”

 

“What do I with it though?”

 

“Guard it. Look for the other three,” It’s an effort to make it sound so casual. Really, Regina just wants the Slayer gone before more than words slip out. “Only then can you destroy them.”

 

“Got it.” She opens her mouth about to ask another question. Ask for Regina’s help but she looks like she has decided against it. “Guess I’ll see you.”

 

* * *

 

Emma Swan has returned to cloud her thoughts but Regina is reluctant to call herself obsessed. She is the Slayer and Regina a former demon. It’s perfectly natural, especially when the idiot might be running around the Hellmouth ill equipped for the task of collecting the other three scrolls. It’s normal for Regina to ask lowly creatures, the only kind that will talk to her, about the Slayer’s comings and goings. And it is a passing thing, she is certain of this. Just a bit of information is all she needs to move on with her life. One dip into her former ways will not mean the return of an all consuming quest.

 

“She is quite formidable, Majestad.” Sydney has never dropped her first title. Regina has never known how to feel about that. His gaze from beyond the looking glass has always made her uneasy. “Pura fuerza de voluntad, will power like no other.”

 

The looking glass with its copper frame sits in the backroom of her shop, away from curious customers. And certainly away from her private quarters, away from Sydney’s invasive gaze.

 

“Yes, we all know that.” She clears her throat thinking of the strength contained in the woman’s hard body. “But what is the word in the underworld about the scrolls?”

 

“The Slayer has two. I hear the second was relatively easy to acquire,” Sydney seems to take pleasure in delaying the information. “The third one, however…”

 

“What about it?” Regina tries her best to temper her interest. To carefully look as if she were just fixing her hair.

 

“Let’s just say, it might be a test to her abilities.” He smiles and makes eyes at her. It’s a bluff, Regina can recognize it. Sydney knows less than he lets on and this had simply to have her at his mirror again.

 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

“Majestad?” He raises his brow suddenly perplexed.

 

“Goodbye, Sydney.” Regina waves him away and decides she is done with these dealings. She should be done with the Slayer, whatever is coming is only what her kind brings upon themselves.

 

It’s one of her worst lies. Regina seems to be linked to whatever happens to Emma Swan, but this is only because she has tried to end her life on some sixty odd occasions. _That_ is the truth. Now that she knows Emma Swan is doing as she instructed Regina can go about her day without any consideration to the Slayer. It will be simple to accomplish now that she is human. Mortals hardly concern themselves with vampire slayers and with world ending scrolls.

 

This non-obsession of hers will fizzle out in no time. Of that she is sure.

* * *

 

“Emma! Tall Caramel Macchiato with a shot chocolate for Emma!” The girl at the coffee house announces with a much too chipper voice.

 

Regina feels her back stiffen and her blood run cold as she stands in line. She thinks herself ridiculous, pulse racing at the sound of a common name being called. The Slayer is hardly unique, that abomination of a drink could well be for  another blonde woman with terrible taste.

 

“Mine! That’s mine!” It is distinctively Emma Swan’s voice that speaks, Regina’s face might go numb. The Slayer sounds out of breath, as if running for coffee and not towards monsters is the true challenge. “You’re outta cinnamon sugar, by the way.”

 

“Oh? You sure you didn’t use it all up already?” It sounds like flirting, playful. Familiar. It’s sickening.

 

“Ouch. Might overlook that if you throw in a free bear claw…”

 

Regina is practically frozen in her spot, watching the ease with which Emma Swan wears her humanity. She doesn’t understand what is it that she resents from this particular moment. All Regina knows that the cold in her body has been replaced with heat. It grows into a flame when the Slayer’s eyes find her, by pure chance. Her lips parts as she takes a step towards Regina.

 

“Hi, can I take your order?” A man behind the counter asks

 

“No.” She says quickly and turns on her heel.

 

* * *

 

It had not occurred to her that Emma Swan existed outside the Slayer. Regina had not considered that she too might lead a life far from graveyards and demons. Her days are not spent wondering what is it that the Slayer does with her time, besides breakfast at a place she can never return to. Could be that she spends her week rescuing kittens from trees or whatever insipid thing saviors are supposed to do nowadays. There are ways she could find out, spirits that would rise to the task. But Regina has opted not to care, not to wonder about her life. About the droll day job she probably holds, not to be remotely interested in the scrolls. If the apocalypse comes or not is not of Regina’s concern.

 

“Might be better than this place.” She mutters to herself as she walks the aisles of what is called a hardware store.

 

Concrete floors and the smell of damp, it makes her newly attached soul beg for release. There are flower patterns mixed in glues and mock toilets that men pretend to use. It smells empty, like many places do in the Hellmouth. Necessity brought her here, slipping in the shower will not happen again. A thousand years of life and revenge will not be ended by basil scented liquid soap under her feet. She had located the in-shower railing but Regina had not been informed about special screws, electric drills and all other complications that come with this project. Trying to decipher  the difference between differently priced items is the dullest form of torture. Humans have taken a pan sin sal route these past few years.

 

“Why don’t you let Bob over there come and help you with those mighty big chains, huh?” A man asks in one of the aisles. Women had asked for revenge for far less than the tone he just used.

 

“I’m good, Mike. Thanks.” The Slayer replies.

 

Regina should drop everything and run before Emma Swan has a chance to spot her. Speak to her, ask about that one morning. Ask about her day, about the contents of her shopping cart. But it’s impossible to do anything but watch the scene in front of her. The woman pulls on what must be the biggest steel chain as if she were pulling ribbons, no doubt enjoying the gasp coming from the attendant next to her.

 

“How much are those sledge-hammers over there?” Emma Swan is terrible at hiding the smugness in her voice. The man, however, is unable to pick it up. Just stands there with his mouth open. “Around fifty bucks, I’m guessing.”

 

She picks four of them up and for the second time Regina remembers being warned about her. But not about her curls and her strong grip., about the way her chest puffs up when she’s pleased. With that disturbing realization Regina moves away before she is discovered.

 

“You said you had a sale on wood?” Is the last thing she lets herself overhear.

 

Regina does not waste any time picturing what misadventures the Slayer might find herself tangled in. It will not become another headache of hers.

 

* * *

 

Ibuprofen. Acetaminophen. Red. Blue. It’s all the same when Regina’s head is pounding. It had been dumb luck that her human body hadn’t tried to kill her up to this point. Her lower back is on fire and somehow she is of bleeding age again. Mujer otra vez, por maldicion. There had been many things she did not miss about her mortal body, this had been at the top of the list. The pain burns through her and she needs it to go away. She would rip off the irritating organ itself if she could. But all she has is this place with blinding white lights and it’s saccharine music playing at every corner. Regina decides for the red box and for the heat pads that promise, _promise,_ to make this torture stop.

 

“Those are a bitch to pull off.”

 

Regina barely flinches at the sound of the Slayer’s voice next to her, an achievement considering she wants to crawl out of her skin.

 

“Do you always walk around giving people unsolicited advice?” She clears her throat before looking her in the eye. Always just as she remembers, standing tall, infuriating in her over-confidence.

 

“Only if I’m stopping them from accidentally giving themselves a wax job.”

 

“I’ll make a note of that.” Regina takes another box of the heat pad to prove her point and tries to walk away.

 

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” Emma Swan follows and she wishes the earth could swallow them.

 

“That has been by design, Miss Swan.”

 

“So you’ve been avoiding me.” Pain shoots up to her temple when Regina catches her biting her lip.

 

“That would imply I have been giving you any thought.” Her pulse picks up and her body wants her to do something. Anything.

 

“Like all those times you tried to kill me?”

 

“Do you need something?” The question shoots from inside her.

 

“Just wanted to know how you were doing.” There is something behind the look the Slayer gives her. Behind the shrug of her shoulders.

 

“I’m fine.” Regina tries her best to ignore all indications that questions should be asked.

 

“OK.” Emma Swan nods and it’s only then that her basket is empty save for a pack of batteries. “Chocolate is good for it.”

 

“For what?”

 

The Slayer smiles weakly at her and drops three chocolate bars into Regina’s basket.

 

Words fail her at this, the smallest and dumbest of moments. Perhaps she should stop Emma Swan, ask her again what is that she needs from her. Instead Regina utters the one word she remembers.

 

“Thanks.”  

* * *

 

_“She knew with suddenness and ease that this moment would be with her always, within hand's reach of memory._

 

_She doubted if they all sensed it - they had seen the world - but even George was silent for a minute as they looked, and the scene, the smell, even the sound of the band playing a faintly recognisable movie theme, was locked forever in her, and she was at peace.”_

 

It’s three a.m. and sleep has missed her. The heat pads worked but had not been worth the trouble. The chocolate had, to Regina’s frustration. She had broken the bar into several pieces and picked at  it as she flipped the pages of her book. It’s the kind of story that would have been written about her. About one of the girls who had summoned her. It should be amusing but Regina finds guilt creeping into her thoughts. About the past, massacres and atrocities long lost in history. It’s a nauseating feeling to suddenly realize that her conscience has returned.  With comes thoughts of Emma Swan. It’s always the Slayer, especially in the early hours of the morning. Regina wonders what it is that she is doing, if there had been use for those steel chains. For the hammers and the wood. What is it that she plans on doing? What has she done?

 

“Solo pensando en babosadas.” Regina mumbles sinking deeper into her arm chair.

 

A heavy and desperate knocking cuts through the quiet of the house. Were she a shadow of her former self she could at least summon fire to her fingertips but all she has is a clenched fist. Regina swings her door open and is wholly unprepared for the sight behind it.

 

“Hi.” Emma Swan coughs out as she holds her side.

 

“Miss Swan...” She breathes out as she takes her state. The gash above her eye, the blood on her neck. The arm she seems to be cradling.

 

“I…” The Slayer leans against the door. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

 

Something takes over, something Regina hasn’t felt in thousands of years. Wordlessly she takes Emma Swan by the hand and brings her inside. Like she would to an injured woodland creature. Eases her into a chair in the kitchen.

 

“Nice place.” A wince escapes her as she tries to lie back. “Always thought Mifflin Street was too snobby for my...-”

 

“What the hell happened to you?!” Regina snaps as she dampens a cloth with water and another with the anti-septic she keeps in her cupboard.

 

“Hydra.” For the first time since she has known her, Emma Swan sounds exhausted. Defeated. “Eight heads.”

 

“That just means you tried cutting its head four times.” She goes after the gash on her forehead first.

 

“Ow, ow!”

 

“Idiot.”

 

“You’re really bad at this.” Emma Swan tells her trying to smile through it all.

 

“And whose fault is that?” Regina takes a step back before wiping the blood of her neck. Not hers at least.

 

“I’m gonna with mine? _Jesus fuck.”_ There is a large cut that her eyes had missed and that is burning with the disinfectant foam. Right on her collarbone.  

 

“Aren’t Slayers supposed to heal faster?” Her voice is biting, Regina knows. In a way that tells her that it’s distress she feels. Distress at having a bleeding Emma Swan at her table.

 

“Still takes a while. It’s not like instant regeneration.” She slips out of her jacket and the wounds are red and alive on her shoulders. A fragment of the Hydra’s claw is still embedded in her skin. “Damn thing ruined my jacket.”

 

“Did you kill it at least?” Regina busies herself with ointments and everything antibacterial as she waits for an answer.

 

“Yeah. I had to,” she says curling her hand into a fist. “Vamp got away with the scroll though.”

 

She stops short of cleaning the wounds on her arms to glare at her. Because there is no obligation for niceties as she tends to a Slayer.

 

“I know, I know.” Emma Swan closes her eyes for a second. “She used the Hydra as a distraction. No way I could have beaten her to the scroll with that slowing me down.”

 

“Perhaps you need to reconsider your strategy.” Her voice is a harsh as she can make it.

 

Emma Swan hisses in pain and pulls her arm away from Regina’s fingers. “Got any ideas? I’m all ears.”

 

“Your problem lies in that it was two of them against one of you…”

 

“I work alone, Regina.” She presses her lips together as her chest rises. “It’s better that way.”

 

“Yes. you only show up at my doorstep practically in pieces expecting me to patch you up!” Regina throws the cloth in the sink and puts her hands on her waist. “And how do you even know where I live?!”

 

“I keep tabs on you,” The Slayer answers just above a whisper. “Saw a vamp tailing you one night. You didn’t realize it. After that, I kinda included you in my patrol route. Just in case.”

 

“That is…” Air quickly leaves her lungs.

 

“Creepy? Yeah.”

 

“Yes,” Regina applies anti-bacterial above her eye. “And oddly considerate. As much as it pains me to accept it.”

 

Emma Swan dares to throw a half smile at her and a question resurfaces.

 

“Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Miss Swan,”  She takes the seat across from her, holding her care in exchange for answers. “Why do you care? Why...why did you spare me and the others?”

 

The Slayer exhales and Regina knows she would squirm if she were physically able. “It’s a long story.”

 

“Lucky that those wounds of yours will take a while to clean.”

 

The woman shakes her head as if she’s bracing herself. “I had a Watcher once. Her name was Ingrid.”

 

At that Regina puts on the kettle and reaches for the bandages as a sign of good faith.

 

“I...I didn’t have any parents growing up,” Emma Swan suppresses a bitter laugh. “I was a kid when I was chosen to be the Slayer. To someone like that, it was a dream come true, you know? Super-powers that come with a guardian who can make hot chocolate. Ingrid was the only time I had a family.”

 

The air grows heavy around them and if she remembered what is that she might have said a thousand years ago, before she was consumed by revenge, Regina might have been able to fill the silence.

 

“She trained me. Made sure I had my breakfast  and stayed in school. Tried to get me into Greek and Latin for my own good.”

 

“What happened to her?” By now Regina has realized that the claw needs to come out to avoid poisoning.

 

“Ingrid was never my Watcher,” Her eyes tighten shut from the pain. Whichever one it is. “She was a shape-shifting demon. Sent by a Dark One or something to try and turn me to their side. Kill me after. But…”

 

“She grew attached.” It isn’t a difficult conclusion to reach feeling the warmth of her skin.

 

“The Watcher’s Council wasn’t so understanding,” Emma Swan tries to keep her voice from breaking. “They asked me to kill her. Ingrid begged me to believe her, to let her prove herself to me. And the punchline is that I did. I believed her.”

 

“Slayer…” Regina feels a sting of an old and unfamiliar feeling in her heart. The one que le hace un nudo en la garganta.

 

“The Watcher’s Council killed her because I wouldn’t. Because demons are not to be trusted, a Chosen One should know better.”

 

“Where does a group of men get the right to pass a sentence like that?!” Suddenly Regina understands everything. Why on that day Emma Swan had chosen to make her human, why she chooses to be alone. “I burned entire kingdoms to the ground for much less.”

 

“Alright, put your guns away,” She tries to laugh but it falls flat. “I haven’t seen those assholes since. Guess they’re just waiting for me to kick the bucket and get a new and improved Slayer.”

 

“Like hell they will.” Purpose instills itself in the words Regina hadn’t known she would mean.

 

“Regina,” Emma Swan turns her eyes on her. Too tired to dare and hope, she thinks. “What are you saying?”

 

“I’ll help you collect those scrolls,” Regina’s hand runs up the Slayer’s injured arm and feels her shiver under her touch. “And stop the upcoming apocalypse.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because,” Her thumb pressed down on her collarbone. “Only I’m allowed to end you, Slayer.”

 

“You don’t mea... _motherfucker!”_ Emma Swan stomps her boot on the floor as Regina swiftly pulls the claw from under her skin. “Little warning would have been nice.”

 

“Better get used to it, Miss Swan.”

 

* * *

 

“Sure you got it?” Emma Swan asks leaning against the counter where Regina keeps the cash register.  She tries to peek at the device in Regina’s hands.

 

“A baboon could do this.” Regina pulls away as she taps in the last few letters on the screen.

 

“Alright. Let me see.” There is that smug smile again. Like she is about to get the upper hand in whatever it is they’re doing.

 

Regina takes great pleasure in handing over the phone and letting the Slayer see what she had done. Saved her number in contacts under “Idiot”.

 

“You showed me, huh.” She nods and snorts as if she’s pleased.

 

“I don’t even understand why you’d bring me this…”

 

“Smart-phone..--”

 

“What use could I possibly have for it?” It feels like a small brick in her hand and it makes her fingers feel clumsy. Like a child.

 

“Now that we’re partners,” Emma Swan pauses waiting for Regina to interrupt her but it’s the _least_ offensive word she has used in the past few days. “We need a way to contact each other that doesn’t involve a crystal ball.”

 

“I would never be caught dead using a crystal ball. Most are cheap knock-offs anyway.” Regina sees the Slayer biting down a smile. “That was a joke.”

 

“Maybe.” But there is no mockery of her. Emma Swan does that, find her amusing but never hold it over her head. She is a better person than she is because Regina would. She has. “It’s good for other things too.  Let’s say you need to find the most obscure thing in the world.”

 

At that Regina scoffs because she has been alive for a thousand years, she has forgotten more than mortals will ever know. But the Slayer looks at her earnestly, waiting for her reply. She can only think of one thing, a song her father used to sing when she was a girl. No one alive would know if it, she saw the language extinguish itself in one realm  and rarely heard it in this one. Regina takes the phone and slowly types in the words in the bar the Slayer points out to her.

 

34,500 results (0.42 seconds).

 

“What is this?” Regina  whispers, completely dumbfounded. “How?”

 

“The internet,” She shrugs her shoulders. “Kinda weird to explain now that I think about it.”

 

Her mouth opens to ask more questions but none are materializing. If the Slayer had this why  had she come to Regina at all? Why would she need her when this _thing_ is at the tip of her fingers. It could be she doesn’t want the truth, whatever it might be. It’s best to choose to be grateful for this moment, for whatever it is that has been gifted to her.

 

“Oh, crap I’m running late.” The Slayer says looking at her phone.  “Call me later?”

 

“You mean call “Idiot”  later?” Regina says because something must be done about the lightness in her chest.

 

Emma Swan shakes her head and she thinks it’s possible to put a name to the look on her face.

 

She would rather not.

* * *

 

The night is decidedly different when she is out as a woman with the Slayer. Regina finds it hard to describe. It’s a newfound vulnerability that she doesn’t find entirely unpleasant.  The night feels like the cold surrounding a fire. Not that Regina would entertain the notion the Emma Swan might be the fire. Not even if she finds that her gaze is focused and intense as they walk the streets of the Hellmouth.

 

“How long does this “patrolling” usually last?” Regina asks feeling her heels sinking into a paper bag. Filled with something disturbingly soft.

 

“Couple hours give or take.” She replies looking down at the damn paper bag. “You should have worn better shoes.”

 

“I didn’t take into account how filthy humans are.”

 

“Regina, you’re human too.” The Slayer’s eyes seem to follow something ahead.

 

“Barely.” She crosses her arms. Looking for clues isn’t what she is accustomed to, there had never been any guess work in being a demon. Just a snap of her fingers would have gotten what she needed.

 

“We just need to…”

 

“Help! Help! Someone HELP!” Comes a strangled male voice somewhere in the dark.

 

Emma Swan sighs and rushes towards the direction of the screams. Regina was used to seeing the side of her that seemed to crave a fight. Tonight there is a certain reluctance to her, the kind that comes with obligation. It’s impossible to keep up with a Slayer, Regina doesn’t even attempt it. Instead she follows the sounds of a struggle until she finds a man cowering in a corner and Emma Swan battling it out with a broad shouldered vampire in a sleeveless shirt.

 

“Rumor on the street is that the Slayer’s isn’t too big on staking us.” He says, running a hand through his black hair.  “Thought I’d see for myself.”

 

“Depends,” She breaks an old broom in half to make herself understood. “What do you know about the world-ending scrolls?”

 

The vampire laughs. “That we beat you to the third one.” He rushes towards in a move that seems too predictable. “And we’ll beat you to the fourth one.”

 

“There’s a _we_ now?”

 

“We’re vampires. We always stick together.” He growls and then turns towards Regina. “Humans don’t.”

 

“Please take them instead, please.” The man in the corner whimpers. “Not me. I was just out looking for a piece of ass to take home. Please.”

 

Noticing the yellow in his eyes Regina can only think of one thing. Emma Swan is right, she should have worn better shoes.  But she is determined to stand her ground and grasps the stake the Slayer had given her at the beginning of the night. The cowering man takes the opportunity to flee from the scene. Regina can still spot unworthiness in men, it usually smells of money. Like this man does. The vampire snarls at them.  Human, demon. Men are all just as insecure.

 

“You think too highly of yourself for a newly turned bat.” Regina says deciding to not be frightened of what could happen.

 

“And how would you know that, woman?” He steps towards her. “Haven’t you heard of the great Gaston?”

 

The Slayer makes a disgusted expression and then nods at her behind his back.

 

“I don’t know of you, Gaston, but I do know you’re nothing but an infant because you can’t help but bare your fangs at us,” She smirks hoping she has read Emma Swan’s signals correctly. “The one thing that makes you special.”

 

“I’ll drink you dry!” He roars at her. “And when Frollo opens the Hellmouth, then the Promised One will rip the spine out of this world!”

 

“I gather that’s useful.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” The Slayer says as she impales him through his back. “Sorry, bud. You seem like an all around horrible guy.”

 

As the wind carries away his ashes Emma Swan’s shoulders drop. Relief, maybe guilt.

 

“Who the hell is Frollo?”

* * *

 

A mistake was made that night when she pulled in Emma Swan into her care. Not only has her life been invaded by the Slayer but her entire living room. There are too many bags too count and too many smells to identify.  Her life has been a disaster.

 

“What on Earth did you do?” Regina asks bewildered at the spread in front of her. “I can’t even see my coffee table!”

 

“I asked what you liked and you said you don’t always remember so I got one of everything.” Emma Swan pops _something_ into her mouth. “Too much?”

 

Regina  halfheartedly glares at her as she pokes around different bags until she settles on the smell of lamb and mint. That seems to please the Slayer and she has to admit that she likes that look on her. Quiet smile that is gone in a second.

 

“What was food like back when…?” She uncaps a bottle while opening what she knows to be a computer.

 

“It’s been a while,” Regina breathes and decides to pour garlic sauce over her meal “I imagine some of it was the same.”

 

“You’re not gonna give me anything on your mysterious past?”

 

“This is a business meeting not a social call, Miss Swan.” It’s a lie, but she’ll be damned if she admits to it.

 

“Right.” The Slayer takes a swig from her beer. “So you said you recognized the name Frollo?”

 

“Vaguely,” She says trying to search her memories for any mention of him. “It’s not demonic but it’s familiar somehow.”

 

Regina can see the blue and white of the screen reflected in Emma Swan’s face. Despite the internet’s vastness she doubts there is an easy solve to their predicament.

 

“Monseigneur Claude Frollo,” She begins to read. “Fictional character and main antagonist from Victor Hugo’s the Hunchback of Notre Dame…because that makes sense,” Her eyes squint and she tilts her head in confusion. “Believes the young Esmeralda to be a demon because of his carnal desires...of course they made a kid’s movie about this.

 

“Wait, I think that’s it.” An old memory comes to her. A young girl had invoked her,  begged for revenge on two men. A man whose name was that of the Sun and another was Frollo. “But it can’t be right.”

 

“What?”

 

“A long time ago, I carried out on a man with that name. A priest,” A sick feeling suddenly overcomes her. “The things I did to him. No man could survive them, certainly not to still be alive today.”

 

“Maybe he wasn’t a man.”

 

“No. He was.” His hair was gray, Regina remembers it now. Ojos claros that could have belonged to another man. It hadn’t been too long since she had accepted vengeance as her legacy. Her humanity was still hiding under her skin.

 

“Hmm. OK.” Emma Swan bites at her lips and continues her search. Doesn’t say much as she looks through different pages while Regina sits in her memories.

 

Memories of a girl who could have been her sister in another life. A dirty city and smells that were enough to make an entire population sick. Soldiers and a king who did nothing. She would have gladly allowed that city to sink into the river. But the girl had only asked for justice and freedom for her people.

 

“Could vamps have brought him back?”

 

“Necromancy? Why would vampires engage in that?”

 

“It’s 2019. Why not?” The Slayer shrugs as if that is supposed to explain it.

 

“There _are_ some types of magic that strictly require a human. Those wingless bat-brains wouldn’t be able to help themselves around a warm human long enough to open the Hellmouth.”

 

“So they made this guy a walking corpse to avoid munching on him?”Emma Swan scrunches up her nose.

 

“In essence, yes. He’s not dead but not alive either,” Last time she saw a person brought back they had begged for death. It would take the darkest of purposes to have a soul prefer to be kept in such a state. “His mind is still there, if they did bring  him back.”

 

“Think Frollo is one of those freaks who wants to bring about the apocalypse to…?”

 

“Cleanse the world of sin.” The words slip out of her mouth like smoke. “The opening of the Hellmouth would achieve that.”

 

“And vamps would have a party.”

 

For the first time in her life, Regina fears that the World will truly end.

 

* * *

 

Three nights are spent with a map spread on her kitchen table. Pinpointing exactly where the last three scrolls were found and where the opening to the Hellmouth might be. Three nights until they discovered an ancient ritual site at the bottom of the cave. The Slayer is already waiting by the cave’s entrance when Regina arrives.

 

“Nice shoes.” Emma Swan says as Regina approaches her.  If only the moon did less for complexion she might be able to keep her eyes off her.

 

“Unlike you, I actually have shoes that can’t afford to get ruined.” She fixes with a glower because the Slayer had specifically listed all sorts of disgusting things in her text message earlier today. Black work boots were the logical choice.

 

“I don’t see how that’s a good thing.” Her smirk is visible as she turns on her flashlight. The light bounces off her belt. It makes it look like a golden glimmer. A metal star.

 

“You’re police?” She makes sure to inject as much disinterest as possible. At this point she accepts, only to herself, that her interest in Emma Swan extends far beyond the Slayer.

 

“Sheriff, actually,” The Slayer is flushed. “Usually remember to leave the badge behind.”

 

“I thought you said this place has the worst police force. Though I can see your point now.”

 

“It does,” Emma Swan lowers her head as she enters the cave. “Perfect cover for a Slayer. I thought I’d have to throw them off my scent at some point but…”

 

“They’re too dim-witted.” Regina letting herself enjoy this new tidbit of information. “So tell me, Sheriff, what is the plan?”

 

“Uuh. Find the scroll, take the scroll, prevent the apocalypse?”

 

In theory it should be that simple, if they are to believe what the internet said about the cult who used this cave. Most demons are too afraid to come near the magic of this place to pose a real threat. Not that Emma Swan needs to hear that.

 

“I can see why they put you in charge,” The boots pay for themselves as she steps into a puddle. “Good thing I came prepared.”

 

“Is that why you’re logging that giant bag around?”

 

As if on cue the vials containing different mixtures clink together. All which she deemed necessary. If only she had her magic no se miraria tan ridicula.

 

“Shut up.”

 

The Sheriff barks out a laugh and hits her head on a stalactite as they ground becomes uneven.

 

“You deserved that.”

 

“What you got in there anyway?” The Sheriff rubs her head. “Anything dangerous?”

 

“Not more dangerous than you.” Regina had meant it as a dig but it makes Emma Swan turn back with an appreciative gaze.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I meant that I can handle it.” She clears her throat. “Protective magic could surround the scroll and at least I still know how to by-pass such things.”

 

“What if it’s another critter guarding the thing?” The Slayer jumps a small breach and extends her hands towards Regina. “Or if a fight breaks out?”

 

The darkness underneath makes her hesitate, a slip and she could potentially be falling forever. Emma Swan tilts her head and takes a step forward in an oddly comforting manner. It’s a small jump but the Sheriff still catches her. One hand at her waist, another one locked with hers.

 

“That’s why you’re here,” Regina’s mouth is parched. “Brute strength.”

 

It’s terrible to watch her chest rise and fall. To feel her skin on hers. _Terrible._

 

“We should keep moving.” Emma Swan nods and Regina does not miss her touch when she distangles their hands. She doesn’t let it burn on her skin and wish for it back as the Slayer’s blonde curls grow larger with the thickness of the air.

 

Instead Regina decides to focus on feeling for magic as they walk deeper and deeper into the cave. Something is amiss,  magic is supposed to get stronger the closer they get to its source. Even her human body should be able to feel it, the pressure on her chest The heaviness in her bones and the cravings for it.. But there is no such thing, her body moves freely and easily as if there were no spells put in place. Her suspicions are confirmed when she sees the orange tinge of fire lighting up the walls.

 

“No, no!” The Slayer seems to have realized the same thing, she runs until she reaches the flames. “Son of a bitch!!”

 

When Regina catches up to her she sees the altar where the scroll would have been. A muddied paper note is in its place. _Down low, too slow._ It should have been impossible for the vampires to have beaten him here, they should have been frightened to enter such a place. She pinches her eyes shut when it dawns on her how stupid they had been. Frollo had more than one use, go where demons can’t.

 

The Slayer kicks at the stone walls of the place. Kicks again, hard enough to loosen rock and stone from its place.  A punch that surely draws blood comes next, along with a rattling of the ground.

 

“Stop that!” She rushes to her side to grab her wrist before she strikes the wall again.

 

“We were too late! We screwed up and now…!” Her eyes have darkened, grey with anger.

 

“Do you want to bury us here?!” Regina’s voice doesn’t soften.

 

Her breathing grows heavy as Regina lowers her hand to keep her in place. The Slayer’s lips part and they’re close. Much too close. Regina wouldn’t have thought it possible, to feel someone else’s energy coursing through her. Like electricity, shocking her cells into life. Instantly she knows that this isn’t because Emma Swan was chosen. It’s because the Slayer is Emma Swan.

 

“Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

 

 

They are stumpt, they hate to admit it. Half of the scrolls are in their possession and the vampires have the other half in their nest. Setting it on fire had been ruled out almost as quickly as it had been proposed. Walking in to retrieve them had been labelled as practically suicide. Regina can’t conjure up enough magic in an unpredictable situation and the Sheriff can’t even out the playing field. Their one idea had been reduced to keeping the other two scrolls separate. One in a place only the Slayer can find and another in the safe at the antique shop. The combination that under no circumstances should be shared. Beyond that, they haven’t known what to say to each other.

 

“You’ll call me if anything weird happens, right?” Emma Swan had tried to smile at her.

 

“I will.” She had promised some five days ago.

 

Now Regina runs inventory at the shop. Marks pieces “C” for cursed and moderately priced, “CC”, cursed more than once and priced beyond reason. For a while it had seemed that her life wouldn’t come back to this, she hadn’t wanted it. Regina will never say, not even under threat of death but there is a Slayer shaped void in her days and nights. Her pulse quickens whenever her smartphone pings with a text message. It’s always the same question and the same two lines of conversation.

 

_everything ok?_

 

_Yes, Sheriff._

 

The bell above the door rings and Regina keeps herself from sighing. Customers are the last thing she needs now.

 

These are not customers, that much is obvious when she takes a look at them. A group of five men in tweed jackets and broad neckties.

 

“Fine afternoon, isn’t it Nemesis?” A short man with thick rimmed glasses asks her.

 

Regina back stiffens hearing a name she had discarded long ago. One that had only been borrowed from a long dead goddess.

 

“You’ll have to excuse my colleague. He hardly ever leaves the archives in London.” A taller man with hardly any hair steps in and extends his hand. “A bit of a fan of the classics, I’m afraid.”

 

“Get out of my shop.” It’s become obvious who they are and she wants nothing to do with them.  The Watcher's Council.

 

“Well, it’s hardly _your_ shop.” Another one says. “Considering you murdered its owner.”

 

“He deserved it.” Regina instinctively reaches for the smartphone on her pocket.

 

“And you concluded that how?”

 

“I don’t owe you any explanations.” She discreetly unlocks it and dials for Idiot, hoping that she will be able to pick on what is happening.

 

“That may be true,” One in a blue tie steps closer. “But our intelligence tells us that you have one of the four scrolls. Now what would a former demon want with that?”

 

The Watchers are trying to bait her into an answer, they have less control over the Slayer than they care to accept.

 

“Mayhem. Destruction, what else?” Regina raises her brow. “I’m sorry you had to make such a long trip to hear it.”

 

“See, I think that you’re lying. We just can’t figure out why and how it’s connected to the Slayer…”

 

“How desperate must you be to come to me for answers on your charge.”

 

“You need to hand over that scroll, Nemesis.” The short one says. “For your own good.”

 

“Make me, you dusty library mole-rat.” Regina knows her lips have fixed themselves into a snarl.

 

“I thought I told you assholes to stay out of my life.” Emma Swan practically bursts through the door.

 

“Emma, how kind of you to join us.” The oldest in the group tries his best at warmth. “We were just having a chat with this delightful…”

 

“You can cut the crap, Ridgewell.”

 

“Very well. If that is how it must be.” He adjusts his glasses before continuing. “We’re here because we got word that you have been grossly mishandling the situation at hand.”

 

“Yeah, word from who?” She stands with her arms on her waist and jaw set.

 

“That’s not important.” Another Watcher steps in. “What does concern us, however, are reports of you letting enemies go off with a warning.”

 

“Compare it to other Hellmouths and you’ll see that it works a lot better than beheading everything in sight.” Her eyes are hard and that makes Regina take a step-back.

 

“Emma, how long has it been? Fourteen years?” The Watcher puts his hands behind his back. “And you still haven’t learned your lesson.”

 

“You don’t get to…” The Slayer’s nostrils flare as her hands tighten into fists.

 

“You can’t afford to get sentimental, Slayer. Not when The Promised One is scheduled to make in appearance in two days time.”

 

 _Two days,_ they hadn’t known that. There had never been star or planet alignments to determine when the Hellmouth would be opened. No specific time in any record or in any memories of Regina’s.

 

“Give us the scrolls and we’ll fix this mess you’ve created.”

 

Suddenly she can see Emma Swan as the young girl she must have been. Hunched shoulders and darkening eyes. Struggling to contain her rage, nails cutting into the palm of her hands trying to restrain herself.

 

“I don’t care who you cheap suits are,” Regina says stepping between them. “But you’re getting out of _my_ shop and staying the hell away from us.”

 

“Us?” Ridgewell seems to be taken aback. “Is that what this has come to, Emma?”

 

“Do you know who she was?” His voice is hard, hard enough to make Regina doubt herself. “The atrocities she committed?”

 

“Yeah,” She sounds so sure that it could almost be true. “Kinda comes with the whole former demon thing.”

 

“Dear girl, she’ll betray when the time comes. You can’t just wish a tiger to change its stripes…”

 

“Isn’t she a little out of your jurisdiction now?” Emma Swan moves to stand next to her. “Being human and all?”

 

“But…”

 

“And you guys are so big on that black and white view of the world.”

 

“Have it your way,” Ridgewell tells her. “But don’t expect a warm welcome when she inevitably stabs you in the back.”

 

“Try believing in someone once in a while, Ridge.”

 

Regina is speechless, el aire se le fue de los pulmones. There had never been in all her centuries something, _someone_ , that moved the earth beneath her like Emma Swan just did.

* * *

 

Her cheeks are warm and her lips are tingling. Burning in parts where she had bitten them and lime, limón, as she had pointedly told The Sheriff, had touched them. After the Council of Watchers had left Emma Swan had asked if she wanted a drink. Because she could use one or several. And now she is here, borracha. In a dingy apartment where everything is brown and white. Emma Swan’s apartment.

 

“I didn’t have you pegged for a tequila kind of gal.” The Slayer laughs as she refills her glass.

 

“There is a lot you don’t know about me.” Regina takes the glass before it’s full, licks the salt from her wrist and downs it. “Did you know I used to be a queen?”

 

“I had guessed as much, yeah.” She is annoyingly less inebriated than Regina. “Sure you wanna talk about it?”

 

“Why not?” The world is ending in two days, Regina wants to say. Ending when someone finally believes in her.

 

“OK.” The Sheriff empties her glass in some display of solidarity.

 

“I didn’t want to be one. It was all my mother’s plans for me,” Exploring those parts of herself feels like an exhumation. Regina thought there would never be a time when a time when those memories could be unearthed and still be sharp enough to make her bleed.

 

“My father, he was a prince. Principe de Alforria. Oh but that wasn’t enough for her. She married me off to a King from a distant land. He asked for my hand after I saved his lily-white daughter from riding to her death. I was eighteen. He was sixty-five.”

 

“That’s real fucked up.” Emma Swan must be filling in the blanks of her life.

 

“I had to find a way to get out of that life,” Regina breathes in and tries to keep the tremor away from her hands. “It took me years to teach myself magic. To harness it but even then it wasn’t enough to escape.”

 

“How did you?” She asks lying back on the sofa against her. Her knees knocking against hers.

 

“I made a deal with an Imp,” The alcohol begins to burn in her stomach. “He would grant me the freedom I desired so long as I spilled blood of man and hurt an ‘innocent’. So I chose to stab the King in the heart.”

 

“Good.” Her eyes are closed.

 

“I cursed his daughter to eternal sleep not long after that.” Regina confesses because the Slayer needs to know, needs to know if she is to believe in her. “Chased her across the land until I got her to eat from a poisoned apple.”

 

“Wait, wait. Back up.” The Sheriff snaps her eyes open and sits up. “Are you saying you’re the Evil Queen from Snow White?”

 

“That’s a crude way to put it.” It’s whiplash that is knocking the wind out of her. “But, yes.”

 

“I always thought she was kind of hot.”

 

“Charming.” She pours herself another drink. To sanitize her insides at least. “I left that realm when the Imp made me good on his promise and turned me into a vengeance demon.”

 

“I’m glad you did. Glad you’re here.” And that is really the last drop. She can’t take this myth of goodness that the Slayer has built around her.

 

“Emma, it isn’t a fairy-tale,” Her tongue has turned bitter. “I maimed. I tortured, I murdered countless people across history. More than I can remember. And I delighted in it. You can’t sit there and pretend that everything is…”

 

“Regina, I don’t care.” Her hand covers hers.

 

“Why don’t you? I’ve tried to kill you." Her kindness is more than she deserves. "Many times.”

 

“We met on your last rampage, remember?” Emma’s eyes are shining from the tequila. “And if we’re being honest, were you actually trying to kill me?”

 

“Yes.” Regina can’t help but smile.

 

“Well, shit.” She falls back and laughs, with her hand still in hers. “It’s nice, by the way.”

 

“Attempted murder?”

 

“You saying my name.”

 

The earth might swallow her in two days but tonight Regina sinks into the space next to Emma Swan.

* * *

 

The sky is an unnatural shade of red. Lighting spreads out like roots across the clouds. The apocalypse, at last. The air is charged, as she had expected it to be. Pulsating with magic, pulling down. Regina had never imagined that it would end like this. In a nondescript street of a nondescript town.

 

“I should have known that the gates of hell were squarely between a Taco Bell and the Salvation Army.” Emma says readjusting the sling of weapons across her chest. “Want to go over the plan again?”

 

“You don’t have one.”

 

“Exactly. Nothing can go wrong.” She exhales and looks at Regina. “Is this what sure death feels like?”

 

“I wouldn't know,” Regina feels her heart in her throat and cold sweat running down her back. “I was usually the one causing it.”

 

Emma nods. “Secured your scroll?”

 

“It’s cutting my circulation as we speak.” She lifts her wrist to show her. A safety measure, designed to delay the inevitable.

 

“Slayer’s here!” A vampire announces to what must be the rest of them. “And she brought a snack along!”

 

“Kicking it off early,” Emma takes her hand and for a moment looks like she might want to do more. “Stay safe down there, OK? No matter what you see.”

 

“You don’t give me orders.”

 

“Regina, please.” She lets go and immediately moves to punch to stake the nearest vampire.

 

The promise never leaves her lips. Instead she follows Emma’s steps, lighting fires as she goes along. Blinding vampires with UV lights she had bought at the hardware store. Reciting every spell she knows to keep demons at bay. Almost all of her arsenal is depleted by the time they reach the altar at the very opening of the Hellmouth. That is when she sees him. Frollo, standing behind it. Green skin and grey hair, lifting a cross up in the air and chanting in the forbidden language of the scrolls. Fire burns behind him, the hellfire he seeks to bring into the world.

 

“Soon, soon the World will be purified!” He says as he lifts up the other two scrolls up in the air. “Of all you sinners and whores!”

 

“Degenerate.” Regina mutters studying the way to the altar.

 

“Slayer’s snack!” A vampire jumps behind her and she lets herself be pushed against a wall. Not before pulling a stake and making sure he impales himself on it as he tries to kill her.

 

There is no time for quick words, no time to waste when she sees Emma Swan being kicked in the face. Vampires surrounding her like vultures around a cadaver. She runs towards her, ignoring the promise she had not made. Ignoring whatever human instincts she should have developed by now.

 

“Did you really think you could waltz in and defeat us? All of us?” She hears one of them say before landing a punch.

 

“You diseased winged rats should stop coming up with your own lines.” Regina says gripping her stake. “They’re pathetic.”

 

“Would you look at this blood bag?”

 

“Regina, what are you doing?!” Emma manages to grit out. One of her eyes is already turning a violent shade of purple and her arm has definitely been popped out of place.

 

“Saving your life, apparently.” Maybe a smile would be appropriate. “In an ironic turn of events.”

 

“This isn’t what we agreed!”

 

“I never agreed to anything.” Her fingers find a vial in her back pocket and let slide between them until it breaks on the ground. A purple smoke engulfs them and Regina takes the opportunity drag the Slayer away from that circle of death.

 

“DEMONESS!” Frollo shouts from the altar. “You dare stand in the way of my fire?!”

 

“That guy is a real creep.” Emma coughs out. “I totally get why you did whatever it is you did to him.”

 

“I need you to give me your scroll.” Regina says already working to untie it from her wrist.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“It’s all part of the plan.” She rolls her eyes as Emma resists her.

 

“We don’t have one.”

 

“No. _You_ don’t have one.”  The Sheriff looks like lightning just struck her.  Regina fights the urge to kiss her. Because she can admit it to herself now, with hell burning behind her.

 

“VAMPIRES!” Kephalos shouts as he charges into several of them. “MY WOODEN HORNS WILL SPEAR YOU ALL!”

 

Kyleeee Jamieeeee Aaaaastrid Thoooooomaaas Billieeeeee

Tyleeeeeer Tiffaaaaaany Nicoooooo Julieeeeeet

 

“Are we doing good boss-lady?!” A Hyena boy wags his tail at her as vampires begin to fall for their magic.

 

“What did you do?” Emma asks handing her scroll over to her.

 

“Called in a few favors.” Regina gets to her feet. “Yours, not mine.”

 

She shakes her head and runs towards the altar as more of ghouls and demons in her list begin pouring in.

 

“DEMONESS! AWAY WITH YOU, AWAY WITH YOU!!” Frollo sets down his putrid hands on the stone.

 

The scrolls are right there for the taking, two pieces of parchment. With all four in her possession she could put an end to this. She could…

 

“You could return to your old life.” A smooth voice whispers in her ear. “Free of guilt. Free of pain.”

 

“Let me guess, The Promised One?” Regina answers not keeping her away from the frantic Frollo before her.

 

“Clever, but then again, you have always been clever.” If she didn’t know better she would say they were moving from side instead of playing tricks on her mind. “Go on, take the scrolls.”

 

Frollo mouth moves but no words come out. In fact, the whole place has gone quiet. “Don’t mind the Priest, he can’t harm you now that I’m here. It’s you I truly wanted.”

 

Regina is careful when taking the parchment from under Frollo’s finger. She unfastens the rope around her wrist and lays all four scrolls on top of each other. The parchment is thin enough that a seal is formed as she presses them together. Red light spring from the words and the ground begins to shake.

 

“A decision has to be made, Regina.” The Promised One whispers. “Free me and I could have you rule by my side. Restore your powers…”

 

Fire springs from one of her hands and she only craves more. More magic pumping through her, fire growing hotter and hotter as she tears the world apart. As she…

 

“REGINA!” Emma’s voice breaks through the Promised One’s silence. “REGINA, LOOK AT ME!”

 

She is standing behind her, holding herself up against a pillar. Blood and soot darkening her hair and eyes on the verge of breaking.

 

“Please.” Emma’s lips seem to say.

 

“What are you waiting for, Regina?” The Promised One sniggers. “A tiger doesn’t change its stripes, you know that. Release me and we can both be free to live our truths.”

 

The flame in her palm grows brighter with intention.

 

“Go to hell.” She says through her teeth as she lets the fire consume the scrolls.

 

The whispering voice shrills in pain as Frollo falls to the ground and the altar cracks in half. Regina steps away before she is swallowed along with it as the Hellmouth closes. The few vampires that are left all scramble away into the safety of the night and they are left with the celebratory joy of all the other creatures of the night.

 

“You know, you really had me going there for a second.” Emma breathes out as Regina approaches. “Not that I believed that you would…”

 

And because the world didn’t end and because she is still human Regina pulls her in for a kiss. Her fingers are still hot from the fire and runs them along Emma’s back as she grazes her lips with her teeth. Her heart beats like she remembers it once did, like it never did. Fast as their kiss is slow. Regina feels Emma’s smile growing on her own lips.

 

“You were dead serious about ending me.” She whispers when they break apart. Her cheeks are pink under all the grime from the battle and her lips swollen. “Wow.”

 

Regina allows herself to grin before kissing her again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The book Regina was reading was Stephen King's Carrie.


End file.
